A Mirror Escape

Hi everyone everywhere,

Today let’s talk about reflections. About reflections that you see and reflections that you are. I believe that as we go through life we look in windows, we look in mirrors, we even look in spoons to see if we’re complete. But it’s funny. In reality the reflection is not your face, it’s actually what you see. So even though you can walk by a million windows, and see yourself every day, every time you look you see a different story. And that’s the kind of reflection I’m talking about. Sometimes I feel, as I look at something, that I can almost see through it. Sometimes when I’m looking at it I analyze (as we all do). But it’s funny, though we analyze everything that we look at, eventually it’s all relevant to one thing: the reflection of ourselves seems to bring us more displeasure than happiness, and it certainly should be the other way. Because all the good people are already beautiful, and the rest…they’ll have to live with that. That’s their reflection.

Before I go, on a local note, I would just like to say that I have listened to the first CD of Thomas Hutlet, a young 19 year old man from Red Deer.  The CD is called White Rose Carpet and the music is a collection of love stories and stories along the way. He’s got a good start and he’s on his way.

Now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts and rest. Well, that’s it, until we meet again at Dexter’s Ice Cream and Tree Stand on the corner of Flabber and Dense.



Thump thump tick tock. Thump thump tick tock. She’s getting ready for the race. The race is in three weeks. She’s  been preparing every day, mentally and physically, though at this stage in her life the race is more for her soul than for her heart. It’s not something she has to prove to anyone; it’s something she wants to prove to herself.

Thump thump tick tock. And now the day comes closer, and she thinks, “Can I do this?” Thump thump tick tock. It’s funny; minutes can turn into days when you’re thinking of destiny. Destiny changes. Sometimes as fast as the wind. So she’ll run a race, but she’ll run it the way it was meant to be:  for her. Thump thump tick tock.

Thump thump tick tock.


By jamesghutcheson

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